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Archive for April, 2012

A real e-mail to my mother (September 30, 2003)

Poop in a jar?!  Oh, no . . . that would be too easy. Poop into a freezer bag, held carefully against my butt, so as to not pee into it or dunk it into the toilet.  THEN using the microcropic sporks (I shit you not, no pun intended) built into the lids, like the wands in wedding bubbles (how delicate and loverly a comparison), of the three tiny (TINY) jars, I scoop out several samples, trying not to brush the edge of the bag against my arm . . . because, in my haste to finish this stimulating project, I got poo on the zipper seal part of the bag.  THEN, try to close the bag, using toilet paper, but getting shit on your fingers nevertheless . . . then put it into the waste basket . . . all the while gagging because, not only do I have sick dog-shit smelling poop lately, but I didn’t have the buffer of the potty water to dampen the overwhelming stench.  SO, I shower with a candle burning in the bathroom . . . because THE ONE TIME I was going to use the airfreshener . . . it’s out.
So, by the time I’m dressed enough to take the garbage (READ: BAG OF SHIT) to the dumpster, the whole apartment reaks, not only of Kenny’s morning farts, which are enough to gag a cow by themselves, but of A BAG OF SHIT marinating in the bathroom.
Add to this that’s it’s too chilly to open the windows and door to air the place out.  So, I leave a note for Kenny and a paper bag marked “THIS IS NOT LUNCH” on the table for him to lovingly transport to LabCorp, which he did.  Now that’s love.  🙂
OOOh, did I mention that the freezer bag got steamed up?  Because it did.  So, I had a steaming pile of poo this morning . . . that I had to have in my hand.  Not directly, mind you . . . but it may as well have been. I felt the heat, and breathed the stench.
You may now thank me for sharing.  🙂

Love you,

M

So.

I finally went to a dermatologist yesterday.  I had a full-body check done, and “the thing” on my face biopsied.  Of all the moles and things on my body that I thought were great cause for concern and tracking, only two little things were photographed.  The white spot above my upper lip that lacks pigmentation, and the mole on the bottom of my foot that matches the one my mother has.  I never really considered either of these two things to be “issues.”  Oh well.

But, the real reason that I went, seemed to give the doctor pause as well.  To his GREAT credit, he suggested NOTHING as to what it “could be.”  Wow.  He just said that he’d let me know the results in about a week, and if it’s nothing, he’ll see me again in 6 to 9 months.

I am relieved to finally have taken some action about this spot, that could be nothing at all, something horrible, or something in between.  In any event, I have now shifted from pondering and worrying into action.

Now, it’s time to do that with all of the other problems and obstacles in my life.

I’m going to start taking Ken’s Aunt Barbara walking.  Forcing both of us to take action about our health.  Motivating her will motivate me.  Perhaps hearing my own advice out loud will force me to “hear” it, too.  I told her that I was “going to fix her” because it’s all a matter of mind-set.  If you decide you’re sick and dying, you will.  If you decide you can’t, you can’t.  If you give up, you’re dead.

 

March on.

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